Tales of Sangheilios: of War and Warriors
by jamuca
Summary: A collection of one-shots featuring a member from each Sangheili family  in alphabetical order . Rated T for language and suggestive scene later on.
1. Footsteps: Ahrmonro Family

AN: My first Halo fanfiction! I wanted to do something really different, and thusly this collection of one-shots was born! As said in the summary, I will be highlighting key events in Covenant history through the eyes of one member from each Sangheili state. This first one is features the 'Ahrmonro family (as seen below). Enjoy and remember to R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo universe, just my original characters. But if I did own the Halo universe, Guilty Spark, the Prophets, and the Brutes would've all died in a fiery explosion, and then their remnats would've been sucked into a black hole. I guess it's good that I didn't create the Halo universe, because then there would be no storyline.

"Footsteps"

POV- Torl 'Ahrmonro

* * *

><p><em>9th Age of Reclamation, State of Ahrmonro, Sangheilios<em>

"Father…" I half-growled, then wheezed, but when the meaning of his words finally caught up with me, I paused, alarmed. It was a grave mistake. The blow struck me hard in the side of the head, and I fell down, stars spiraling in my eyes. My narrow cheekbones ached.

"Weak," my father mused. He lent me an aiding hand, to which I took, but his wide grimace glared down at me in disappointment. "Son, I will say it again- your heart condition will do well to stay your life." At first I thought he meant I would die early. I caught my breath.

"I _will_ join the military!" It was a ferocious snarl, but it did little to convince my father of my worthiness. For centuries, my ancestors had been granted military status, and, being my father's only son, I would too; I had no choice.

My father merely shook his head and turned to exit the training room, but not before pausing briefly to glance over his shoulder.

"Perhaps you will follow in my footsteps."

My father was one of the few Oracle Masters- an advisor to the Prophet of Regret and religious consultant to the Holy One's honor guard. He was well respected, and though not technically part of the military, was considered honorable enough. To follow in his footsteps would be a grand experience, thought to be an experience rival to that of fighting for the Great Journey; thought only by some.

My mother entered the room.

"Oh, Honey, look at you," her slender hands were immediately sent to tend to my swollen face. I gently pushed them away.

"Mother, I'm fine. Father made his point- perhaps I will consider it," my mother's hands fell abruptly to her sides.

"You mean as a civilian?" her puzzlement was etched across her narrow face.

"Perhaps as a consultant to some high-ranking Shipmaster or such," she raised her hand to touch my raised bruise. I laid my hand over it. "You will endorse me, right?"

"I shall," she said. "Now let me tend to that bruise."

* * *

><p><em>9<em>_th__ Age of Reclamation Post-Great Schism, Aboard Sep. Battlecruiser, _Begotten Angel

Not usually one to sit in a chair for hours, Shipmaster Crono 'Inanrar paced tensely around the holographic table projecting the space above The Ark. The Brute fleet was at least twice their size. Truth's ship was holding back beyond the enemy fleet. He hung his head and clutched the edge of the table, as he often did whilst deep in thought.

I gazed unsurely at the projection, tens of thoughts scrolling in my head.

_We can't do this… this is suicide… we'll be shot down for sure, and then Truth will have won… the whole galaxy will be devoid of any intelligent life… my wife will die…._

But I dare not speak them.

From some officer's station, Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum's deep voice broke through the rigid atmosphere.

'All cruisers fire at will… burn their mongrel hides!'

"Fire!" 'Inanrar slammed his fist down onto the hologram, conveniently onto the projection that was Truth's ship. He swung his head towards his chest again and sighed, once again recessed in whatever thoughts plagued his mind.

I gazed at the table in shock. I saw their plan immediately- utilizing distraction while sweeping in from the side. Almost half of the cursed fleet was headed towards our sister ship, the _Pious Inquisitor, _which hung on the far rim of our fleet. It would be alone to face nearly fifteen ships.

"Shipmaster," I warned. He glanced up from his thoughts and at the projection.

"Fire on that cluster! Alert 'Vadum to reinforce the starboard side of his fleet,"

"Yes, Shipmaster," an officer answered.

"Move in!" 'Inanrar leaned towards the holographic projection of the _Pious Inquisitor_. The enemies were closing in fast. On the blue table, our ship's projection leaned towards the incoming ships.

Our guns gently rocked the _Begotten Angel_ as we sent a barrage of plasma fire at the Brute bastards. Under concentrated fire from both the _Begotten Angel_ and the _Pious Inquisitor_, one of the Brute ships fell in a matter of minutes.

"Shipmaster, one of our support ships has been shot down- the first to succumb to this accursed battle," one officer said.

"And the other support ships are…?" 'Inanrar left the question hanging as he searched the projection for the ships supposedly sent to aid them.

"It is possible that our message faced interference," I said. 'Inanrar shook his head.

"We would have been aware of such treachery. Besides, the Brutes aren't much for blocking transmissions _during_ a battle," I leaned back on my hooves.

"Shipmaster!" I cried. The Brute ships were turning away from the _Pious Inquisitor_, and instead faced us.

"They've opened fire on us… only us!" one of the officers bellowed. "Their sustained fire will bring our shields down in approximately 3.5 minutes,"

"Shipmaster, the _Shadow of Intent_ is leading a charge," I commented. A few of the officers glanced dubiously around at the projection, then quickly back to their posts as 'Inanrar gave them a wary look.

'Crono, I thought you might need some help,' 'Vadum's voice once again broke into the room through a channel.

"My gratitude, Shipmaster," 'Inanrar replied. Two more Brute ships fell.

"Shipmaster… they came too late. Our shields are falling!" an officer yowled. A few moments later, bright lights shed their orange menace over the control room, and consoles blared warning signals. The ship was racked with incoming fire.

It was at that moment that Crono 'Inanrar took his command chair, pressed one of the numerous buttons, and spoke to the entire population of the ship.

"_Begotten Angel_ patriots, it is with my sorrow that none of you will return home. But your death will be most honorable and it is with certainty that Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum will strike vengeance on these Brute mongrels. It has been an honor to command such a fine crew." He took his finger slowly off the button as a simply enormous explosion rocked the ship. A life support warning screeched and the bridge was bathed in crimson light.

"Shipmaster, we're falling out of orbit!" an officer said.

"Deck members, brace yourselves! 'Pewtruno," 'Inanrar addressed the officer in charge of communications, and who was possibly my best friend. "Notify the crew to do the same,"

"Yes, Shipmaster," Donra 'Pewtruno answered and tapped a series of buttons on his console. He then turned and gave me a look that read the terror in his face. He was young- he hadn't yet known the love or devotion of a female, and I knew that he was in charge of bringing home money for his orphaned sister. I vowed that if I lived through this, she would become my adopted daughter… I couldn't let her live so dishonorably.

"300 units until we crash. Shipmaster, it appears we will land in the middle of some desert. There is a large amount of brute equipment," another officer warned. 'Inanrar grabbed his chair and braced himself. I followed suit.

"Let us not worry about that yet," 'Inanrar said defiantly.

"Fifty units!" in a matter of seconds, I was thrown from my chair as our broken ship peeled off the edge of a mountain and slammed into the side of a sand dune. The crash was deafening, but through the haze, I heard a sickening sound. After I recovered, I turned and was startled at the sight before my eyes.

"Shipmaster?" I said warily. He was doubled over, leaning over the projection table. I could see that underneath him, there was a pool of purple blood. I gently moved one of his arms and gasped. "Are there any medics still alive?" I cried to the rest of the crew. Part of the table had been broken in the crash, and my leader had been impaled on it.

"Excuse me, Oracle Master," a Sangheili clad in white and red gently shoved me aside. I stepped back hastily and glanced around the broken room. Plasma spewed from a tube that was hanging down from the ceiling. Every single console was broken. Mountains of debris were piled up on the side. One of the doors was open, and I could see that the corridor was gouged- sunlight streamed in. From the wreckage rose one of the officers.

"Donra!" I called out, astounded. He was freeing himself from one of the piles of wreck.

He moaned. "Torl?" he said, then groaned in pain and leaned on one of the pillars, holding his head with his free hand. I ran over to him.

"I'm glad your alive,"

"The Shipmaster?" he asked.

"I'm no medic, but it doesn't look good," he 'hmmed' at my response.

* * *

><p>When everyone in the bridge who was still alive was finally gathered, we assembled around the Shipmaster and sat in a public prayer as the medic worked.<p>

"Torl," the Shipmaster rasped. The group dispersed and the medic walked past me, shaking his head slowly. "Torl," he repeated. I neared him.

"Shipmaster?" his death was nigh. I could see it in his ashen face, out of which his mouth was bleeding.

"If the Brutes don't find you… and if you make it home… I want you to teach my son,"

"Yes, Crono, I will,"

"Thank you for everything. All the knowledge you gave me… all of the laughs… it was a pleasure to have you as my advisor," despite the circumstances, I felt pride glow within me at the praise.

"Thank you, Shipmaster,"

"And tell your friend that I expect great things from him,"

"I will, Shipmaster," I dared not weep.

"Thank you…" his chest heaved and he let out his last breath. His shining amber eyes were incredibly glassy with death. I lay him down gently as Donra neared me.

"Will we take him with us?" he asked. I didn't turn to face him.

"He said that he expects great things from you," I sensed the surprised expression on his face. "I'm guessing that means he wants you to follow him in his footsteps… become a Shipmaster,"

"I've never aspired to uptake a role that grand," Donra said humbly. "He was like a father to me…"

"Yes, he was most benevolent to us all," I stood and turned to him. "No, we can't take him with us. It would slow us down, and the last thing he would want for us would be to be pounced upon by the Brutes. No, we'll bury him. A Shipmaster so divine should be buried next to his ship,"

The bridge members all heard this, and so we started the procession immediately, climbing out the gaping hole in the corridor. As his advisor and one of the closest people to him there, I spoke.

"He was most benevolent," I started, using the same term I had said to Donra. "An inspiration to us all; he inspired strength when he led us into battle. Never would he let his foes think that they had won. He inspired understanding when he always had intelligent words. He was the first of our crew to trust the Humans, and so far, he was not mistaken," around the sand dune where we were standing, a few chuckles and amused expressions were roused from the officers. "But most of all, he inspired honor. When one of us strayed, he guided us with examples of how to act like true Sangheili… not like puppets that the Prophets played with. He inspired us to do our best in the ways of warriors, and he will be missed," the body was laid in the shadow of the _Begotten Angel_, and was carefully buried in the midst of an adjacent sand dune.

"Not bad for an improvised speech," Donra said mildly. "Now, Oracle Master 'Ahrmonro, how exactly are we going to get back to the fleet?" I racked my brain. The only plausible chance of getting back to the fleet would be to be patient.

"We play the waiting game," I replied. He didn't look satisfied.

"And what if the Brutes find us first?" I glanced at the Sangheili still left- five of the seven officers including Donra, the medic, one technician, and one Oracle Master.

"Can you take three of the officers and the technician and get some weapons from the armory… preferably something long-ranged. I will take the others and scout around,"

"Very well," Donra nodded and dashed off with his squad of bridge officers, and one technician, into the wreckage.

"And if you find anyone…" I called to him. He turned back and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Let's go," the medic and the last officer followed me around the dunes. After a while of walking, my limbs fell, oddly, numb. It didn't take very long until a sudden ache joined the numbness.

"Not to be impolite, Oracle Master, but what exactly are we looking for?" the officer asked.

"Anything Covenant," I replied, groaning inwardly at the pain, centered around my chest. "I don't want the Brutes to find us first," then I spotted something tall and silver gleaming over the crest of a mountainous sand dune. "Over there," I said, pointing. Suddenly, the numbness and pain subsided.

We quickly travelled up the dune and were startled to see the huge structures on the other side. Several large silver pylons were located around a ring. In the center was a bowl filled with sand and…

"Forerunner structures," I whispered. "There's bound to be Brutes down there, and a way to communicate with the fleet. Let's go back and gather all the survivors."

* * *

><p>The sun was halfway across the sky as we returned to the crash site. "You found a structure." Donra stated. I was surprised.<p>

"Yes, and not too far from here. How did you know?"

"A feeling," he shrugged. "By the way, we found over fifteen survivors, and gathered enough weapons for all of them,"

"Very good. Now let's see if we can relay a message through the structure."

By the time we got back to the Forerunner structure, the sun was nearing the horizon. A sharp pain radiated through my chest, worse than the aching I'd experienced earlier. Gradually, I began to feel dizzy.

"Ugh," I groaned. Donra glanced at me.

"Heat getting to you?" he asked. "Sorrow? Worry that the fleet won't find us?" He looked at me again as the numbness returned. "Torl, you don't look too good," I didn't feel too good either. I was sweating profusely and my chest ached. And I knew exactly what was going on.

"My heart condition," I forcibly whispered as I collapsed.

"Medic!" I heard Donra yell as I lapsed into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><em>Aboard Sep. Carrier, <em>Shadow of Intent

The white lights that engulfed me also blinded me. I shielded my eyes and struggled to get up.

"No, no, Torl. Don't get up," though my ears were tender, I recognized the voice of Donra.

I spoke his name quietly and groaned at the effort. "Where in the Gods are we?"

"We're on the _Shadow of Intent_, friend. We're on our way home," joy filled me for the first time in years. Once more I struggled to get up, but Donra gently pushed me down again.

"Let me go. I have to plan for how I'm going to take care of Crono's son,"

"You'll have time," he said reassuringly. "I will help you if I have to,"

"Did they tell you anything about my heart?"

"They said that you can't go on any extravagant missions anymore," he chuckled. "But that shouldn't be a problem,"

"Why not?"

"Because Truth is dead, and all of his lies have been ceased," Donra's voice was elevating with his evident happiness. I could hardly believe my ears.

"We did it? Who killed him?"

"The Arbiter,"

"What about the Ark?"

"Destroyed, along with the new Halo,"

"There was another Halo?"

"I'll tell you the story later,"

"And the Humans?" Donra paused.

"Rebuilding. Political ties have not been established yet, but there are some members of the Council who have been talking about trade and commerce, and possibly a future permanent alliance,"

"So we really did it? We changed history, and now peace will prevail?" I inquired, now quite tired.

"Yes. Peace will prevail," I slept that day, dreams fleeing my exhausted mind. But at least the darkness was filled with happiness.

* * *

><p><em>Epilogue- Torl's Journal, 1st Age of Constitution, state of 'Ahrmonro, Sangheilios<em>

Journal Entry #77

It is now one year since the Great Schism ended in our prevailing. Happy anniversary! Though of course it is also the anniversary of the death of Shipmaster Crono 'Inanrar, and such heroes shall be missed dearly. In honor of our fallen, our new government has named this day to be an international holiday of feasting and thankfulness, much like the Human's holiday of "Thanksgiving". In addition to that, our government has declared a new Age be introduced alongside the seven Ages. It is to be called the "Age of Constitution", Constitution being a Human word meaning "temperament or establishment"… a suiting word to our current times of well-being and peacefulness.

Speaking of the Humans, it has been announced that our two races, Sangheili and Human, to be sided in an alliance, a brotherhood, as we discover new wonders in the galaxy together. Trade ships have been dispatched from both parties, and the Commerce Union of our world has high hopes that trade will continue for quite a long time.

Among other things, I am to be enrolled in an institute intent on procuring representatives and senators from each state in an attempt to create a central government amongst our traditional, council-governed states. Our aristocracy has lost its touch, and our new government will work through something called "democracy", another Human word. It appears the Humans have influenced our growth more than anyone ever thought.

My good friend Donra 'Pewtruno has indeed become a Shipmaster, in charge of a ship in a fleet to search for forerunner structures and safeguard them. His daughter has become the first female Sangheili since before the Sangheili- San 'Shyuum War to take the role of Shipmaster (in her case, Shipmistress). Her reputation entails harder work than the rest of us.

In conclusion, I would like to address that the flood have been almost completely desecrated, and we have now dispatched roving ships to detect sites where infection may occur, and lock them down. Also, by word of newly elected Leader of the Council, Thel 'Vadam, "all forerunner installations to be guarded against overly curious, space-faring races, in fear that they may inadvertently activate the Rings." Like the Humans say, "curiosity killed the cat".

-Future representative, Torl Ahrmonro

* * *

><p>AN: Congratulations to me! First chapter down! I hoped you like! BTW, the forerunner structure was either Sandtrap or Sandbox, that's really up to you to decide (they're pretty much the same thing). BTW(again), the second paragraph of the journal entry is fancy talk that the Elites and humans are buddies now (yay). BTW(again, again), I used comparison in width of face to show that Torl was more similar in temperament to his mother than his father.<p>

P.S. Bungie, I honor you as I name the journal entry "Journal Entry #77"! And for all of you who don't get it... look it up!


	2. Submission: Bandol Family

AN: Second chapter posted (obviously)! This one focuses on the Covenant's discovery of the Jackals and their adding them to the Covenant forces. This concept was easy to come up with since there are really no specifics to this encounter. Hope you like... I'd appreciate feedback!

"Submission"

POV- Chors 'Bandolee

* * *

><p><em>Human Year 1342, 2<em>_nd__ Age of Discovery, onboard Covenant ship _Digression of Solitude_, outside Y'Deio star system_

"Kig-Yar, they call themselves," the communications officer Ghar 'Tahamee told me. I appeared interested as I drained the broth out of my shallow, wide-brimmed bowl.

"Have you alerted High Charity yet?" I asked, reaching for the cup of marinated larvae on my food tray. The cafeteria was absolutely filled with chatter about the new race.

"Of course! It was the first thing we did," Ghar seemed surprised. "They told us not to engage until they send reinforcements. Though their ships seem rather… primitive… we aren't yet sure if they have some sort of secret weapon hidden on the planet,"

"And I'm guessing that the High Council saw it unbecoming for the Secretary of Contention's personal ship to go into battle?" I addressed the Lesser Prophet in charge of our small, three-shipped scouting fleet.

"Certainly," there was a break in our conversation as we both ate steadily. Finally, after I finished, I spoke.

"So then that means, when battle it comes down to, we will not fight?" my friend _hmmed_ at this.

"Possibly," we sighed simultaneously. Suddenly a thought occurred to me.

"Wasn't there mention of a race called the Kig-Yar in the Chronicles of the Forerunners?" I asked. If so, then the Prophets would be almost required to assimilate them into the Covenant.

"Now that you mention it…" Ghar started. Suddenly, the third bell of the day sounded. "First bell, second shift. I have an extended shift today," he said passively. "I'll think about it. You ought to do some research," he added as he hustled off to his station. I nodded a nod of acknowledgement that he didn't see.

This bell was my free period. Usually, I would spend it in private prayer, or in the Sanctum of Worship, or occasionally on the recreational deck. However, since I had already prayed that morning, I decided that my bridge officer duties permitted me to an unscheduled break, so long as I did not get caught.

As I made my way to my quarters, in which I shared with Ghar and another roommate, my mind was suddenly assaulted, again, with a thought. These Kig-Yar ships could be equipped with advanced Forerunner technology. _But our ship's Luminary would've picked up on it,_ I thought again. It was then that I decided that my everyday ship duties were straining my mind, and my request for rest was granted as I walked into my quarters, laid down, and fell promptly asleep.

* * *

><p>"Chors!" my other roommate, another bridge officer named Sals 'Zamamee, shook me awake, careful not to yell too loud.<p>

"What? What?" I scrambled to my feet, but then collapsed against the wall as my legs buckled. I quickly stood up straight and almost hit my head against the upper bunk. "I'm fine, I'm okay," I said quickly. Sals promptly slapped me across the face. "I'm awake!" I yelled.

"You're late!" he said. My heart leapt in alarm, then sunk in dread. "It's only a few minutes past second bell, so if you tell Shipmaster that you were praying, he might let you slide,"

"I doubt it," I murmured as I raced down the hall.

* * *

><p>"You're late, officer," the Shipmaster grumbled angrily as I arrived nearly ten minutes late.<p>

"Um, yes, Shipmaster… I was in deep private prayer in my quarters and hadn't heard the bell," I said softly. _So now I've fallen asleep during my free time, been late for my post, and lied to a superior all in less than one rotation,_ I thought miserably.

"Get to your post. There's nothing you can do now except your job,"

"Yes, Shipmaster," I was almost relieved as I hurried to my station next to Ghar's, who shook his head subtly.

"But if you think you won't be punished, you are gravely mistaken. I am assigning your free periods to public prayer in the Sanctum of Worship for ten rotations," he neared me and growled in my ear, low enough for only me. "And I _know _you weren't praying." I sunk my head in submission as he walked away. Humiliation was the one thing I feared.

* * *

><p><em>Covenant ship <em>Digression of Solitude_, one rotation after instance on bridge, rest period for 2__nd__ shift bridge officers, 1__st__ bell 1__st__ shift_

"Thy Gods watch over us all and surround us in the mirth of their glory," I recited slowly. The Sanctum of Worship was sparsely inhabited- only the Zealot preacher and several Sangheili listeners were present. "Their presence, so divine, engulfs us, and I am thankful for it," two Yanme'e fluttered into the Sanctum and crouched beneath the mural depicting the Age of Abandonment. I ignored their insectoid chatter as they briefly chirped a prayer and flew out. "And when we, their guardians, accomplish what they have so divinely offered to us, achieve their fate and walk alongside them in the Great Journey, all who hold faith shall be holy themselves." I rose from my place in front of the statue of the High Prophet of Tolerance and moved to the next, the High Prophet of Restraint.

When I had repeated the prayer in front of the High Prophet of Restraint and High Prophetess of Obligation, as well as the murals depicting the four Ages and other important events, it came to my attention that it was nearing the middle meal. I listened to the words of the Zealot until the bell for the next shift rang.

* * *

><p>"So, how was praying for eight hours straight?" Ghar asked as I walked into the cafeteria and sat at our usual table.<p>

"Exhausting, but I am thankful that I wasn't given the _other_ punishment," Ghar nodded in agreement. The _other _punishment was what you were given if you were definitely found sleeping during a free period. This intrigued me since it would mean that Shipmaster was either in a very good mood, which I doubted, or that he hadn't thought that I was asleep. _But then what _did _he think I was doing?_ I didn't want to know if Shipmaster was thinking impurely.

Just prior to our arrival in the orbit of this star system, a group of Sangheili hangar workers had been caught sleeping during their free period. They'd been given public prayer in the Sanctum of Worship for the duration of this expedition. He was glad it was Sals that had found him.

"Anyway," Ghar said. The two commenced eating and he continued in between bites. "We think that the Kig-Yar have picked up on our presence, despite all our efforts to remain camouflaged. Shipmaster said that they may, in fact, be more intelligent than we first thought,"

"Or that they are using Forerunner technology," I said, more to myself, and without thinking. Ghar looked at me.

"Do you doubt the Luminary? If there is one thing that's true on this ship, and that's beside the Secretary of Contention, it's our Luminary. 'A Luminary does not lie'," he quoted the ancient wisdom of one Prophet of Concurrence. We ate then in silence, brooding in our own thoughts. I suddenly spoke.

"Our forces are en route, yes?"

"Of course,"

"Good," I replied and turned back to my tray. The rest of our meal was spent gossiping about recent crew members using recreational drugs.

"Should we do it?" I asked.

"No. Shipmaster would never let us come onto his bridge drugged."

I never told Ghar the reason that I asked if our forces were coming. It turned out there were two things I was afraid of- humiliation and death by a race of unknowns.

* * *

><p><em>Covenant ship <em>Digression of Solitude_, ten rotations after instance on bridge, work period for 2__nd__ shift bridge officers, 2__nd__ bell 3__rd__ shift_

Though worship was indeed gratifying, I was happy that today had been the last day of my public prayers.

"Shipmaster, as soon as all current examinations are through, the fleet will engage the enemy," Ghar said from his post. We'd done a series of eavesdropping and listening, learning their language of high-pitched groans and lower-pitched growls. We'd also done a more thorough analysis of their technological standings and found that we'd be able to dominate them easily. There had been more advanced talk that they were in fact one of the races to be saved from the Great Journey when the Forerunners departed, and there were groups forming who'd said that we should study them longer. But the Secretary of Contention made obvious his detest to that option, much to the High Prophets' favor- the Kig-Yar would be slaughtered unless they agreed to join the Covenant.

"Excellent," Shipmaster replied. "Soon, they will either be our enemies or our subordinates, and either way we will win," the bridge crew, myself included, cheered briefly.

Moments later, a call from one of the other original three ships came in, and a screen descended from the ceiling, just in front of the command station. On the screen displayed an important-looking, much taller Sangheili than most of us had seen in our lives.

"Shipmaster," both Shipmasters bowed.

"Yes?"

"Bring in the Secretary of Contention immediately; there have been developments in our research," all of us bridge members turned in interest. Shipmaster motioned us to turn back to our systems. I heard a small _beep_ as Shipmaster pressed the summoning button for the Secretary of Contention's personal quarters. Moments later, the bridge doors hissed open, and the Secretary floated in on his anti-gravity chair, flanked by his two honor guards.

"Yes, Shipmaster?" he asked in a silky voice. His headdress, though stunted compared to the High Prophets', was a shimmery silver, beaded with deep purple gemstones. His brown skin stood out against his ashen gray robes, which were covered by a purple outer-robe of the same rich color as his gems. As if in the presence of something particularly holy, both shipmasters bowed deeply to the Secretary.

"There have been developments, Great One," the Shipmaster repeated. "Our ship's Luminary has detected the presence of a Forerunner artifact on the surface of their moon world,"

"Any ideas of what it might be?"

The Shipmaster paused.

"Not yet, Great One. I thought it wise that you know before we commence our attack," though we weren't watching, we members of the bridge could almost hear the Secretary's eyes narrow. The Shipmaster had made two mistakes; the Secretary did not enjoy assumptions, and he especially did not enjoy idle information. He seemed to realize his mistake just as the Secretary began speaking

"So, Shipmaster, you assume it's an intelligent move to let your leader know that you have found something that may very well be unimportant, and to call him from his important duties to hear this unimportant news?" he spoke sternly and quickly, and rather incoherent at the pace he was going. "Such a follower ought to not be entrusted with an entire warship. Be wary, Shipmaster, to plan your words in advance so that your findings may be of some merit," and with that, the Secretary whipped around and exited the bridge, his two personal guards still flanking him.

"You should get back to your duties," Shipmaster said resignedly. The other Shipmaster merely nodded and the screen faded black, then retracted back to its hiding place in the ceiling.

* * *

><p><em>Covenant ship <em>Digression of Solitude_, one rotation after discovery of Forerunner "artifact", work period for 2__nd__ shift bridge officers, 1__st__ bell 4__th__ shift_

The Forerunner artifact had turned out indeed to be of nothing important… just a broken off fragment of ship that the Kig-Yar had fashioned into some sort of central statue. "Artful indeed," Ghar had said about the matter. Now, we were preparing to attack. The Secretary of Contention was present on the bridge, his two guards still posted on either side.

"Alert High Charity that we are commencing attack," the Secretary ordered. Next to me, Ghar obliged, tapping a few buttons rapidly. After a few moments, Shipmaster continued on a channel to all ships.

"Stay cloaked until further orders. Once uncloaked, immediately bring all power to forward shields until further orders. Once orders are given, open fire with all power to main plasma cannons," the ship breathed a sigh as the peace left the atmosphere, and the air turned crisp with tension. Shipmaster uttered the next few words. "Commence attack,"

We listed right and sped up immensely. The burst of speed was fleeting, and soon we were slowing down. As we slowed, my station, responsible for reporting sensor activity, blared.

"They must have detected us… they're moving to attack," I said.

"All cruisers, disengage camouflage! Raise shields!" Shipmaster said. Though we were not taking part in the attack, we were hit by a barrage of fire that rocked the ship.

"They're fire did not impede us," the primary defense officer noted.

"All cruisers, attack!" the Secretary ordered through the communications channel. At my station, I could see that our fleet had destroyed two of the Kig-Yar vessels; this battle would be easily won.

"Shipmaster, they're ships have ceased fire," the secondary defense officer said.

Before Shipmaster could respond, Ghar added "They're contacting us,"

"All cruisers cease fire. Open channel," the screen descended from the ceiling once more. "Speak," he said as the image of the avian species was displayed on the screen.

"Why you attack us?" the alien asked in rough Covenant language. The Secretary of Contention moved forward.

"This is the Secretary of Contention. We have holy orders to slay all who are not worthy of treading the Path to divinity,"

"We not given you cause for our destruction," the Kig-Yar spoke in a constricted, articulate fashion. "We respectfully ask you leave this sector or fall victim to idle combat," the Secretary of Contention scowled.

"To do so would be heresy! Our efforts will not be 'idle' if it is the High Prophets wishes!" with that, the communication ended and the screen once more retracted into the ceiling.

"All cruisers fire!" Shipmaster ordered once more. I glanced at my sensor display, and soon enough one more Kig-Yar ship was wiped off the screen. But it was less than ten heartbeats later when a signal on Ghar's station flashed.

"Shipmaster," he said rather tentatively. "A call from High Charity," Shipmaster waved at him, and the screen once more came down.

"High Prophets of Tolerance, Restraint, and Prophetess of Obligation," Shipmaster addressed the trio as he bowed to the ground.

"Secretary," Restraint said, ignoring the Sangheili.

"High Prophets," the Secretary answered, nodding respectfully.

"Secretary, have you already engaged the Kig-Yar?" Tolerance asked.

"Yes, Holy Ones, by your word,"

"We secede those orders," Obligation continued. "You are to make peace between this battle,"

"Forgive my foolishness for asking- why?" the Secretary asked.

"Because," Restraint said impatiently. "Hours of study have confirmed they were in fact examined and spared by the Forerunners and therefore must be incorporated, not destroyed,"

"You will see this done, I'm sure," Obligation added just as the three Prophets faded off the screen.

"All cruisers, halt attack!" the Secretary ordered.

"Officer 'Tahamee, contact the Kig-Yar ship at once," Shipmaster bellowed as he rose from his kneeling position.

"Yes, Shipmaster," he replied, then whispered to me, "Make up your mind," I snorted in mild amusement.

"So soon?" the Kig-Yar commented as the screen came down.

"There have been… recent developments… that have made us rethink our response to your presence in this galaxy," Shipmaster said awkwardly. The Secretary floated forward. The Kig-Yar looked on with little interest.

"Only if you do not join our great Covenant will we be forced to slaughter your fleet," the Secretary said. "You're destruction is hereby your decision. You well know how easily we can eradicate your ships," the Kig-Yar made a few indeterminable noises, possibly in a sublanguage of its species, and seemed to consult with some hidden crew member.

"Very well," it said. "We know how more advanced your ships are. We will work for you, but in spirit of our history, only for price," it hissed. Shipmaster snorted, but the Secretary only made an amused _hmmm_.

"You pirates show daring, even on the brink of oblivion. I'm not sure how the High Prophets will see to this arrangement, but I'm sure they will appreciate all you will give to us in service. It is done- we will send a negotiator to your flagship," the Secretary waved his arm and retreated to his private quarters. The screen ascended back into the ceiling.

* * *

><p>AN: Obviously, the High Prophets accepted paying for the Jackals' services.<p>

BTW: There are only four murals of Ages because this was so long ago, and the events in the more current Ages haven't happened yet (durr).

BTW BTW: Luminary- a Forerunner device used to detect other Forerunner structures, artifacts, technology, etc.


End file.
